The Adventures of Lan Mandragoran
by Man Landragoran
Summary: The Wheel of Time is in trouble. Robert Jordan's characters have lost the plot and their interactions have devolved into petty squabbling. Rand Al'Thor, The Dragon Reborn, has completely lost his mind, Perrin has given up, and Mat is nowhere to be found. In these darkest times, a new hero has emerged: Lan Mandragoran, probably not the hero we need, but certainly the one we deserve.
1. Lan Discusses Battle Plans with the Kin

**EPISODE 1: LAN DISCUSSES BATTLE PLANS WITH THE KIN**

Lan approached a door in a dimly lit hall on the west end of the Sun Palace in Cairhien. As he reached for the doorknob, he noticed a sign at eye level, attached to the door with masking tape. In a crude, childish hand, the words "NO BOYZ ALLOWED" were written in magic marker. Ignoring it, he entered the room.

Three women gathered around a wide table in the center of the room, looking at an unfolded map with red and green markers placed all about. From the door, it was hard to make out much detail. All three of them looked up as he entered, and none of them looked happy to see him.

The oldest of the three women, Alise, laid into him before either of the other two could open their mouths. "Who told you you could come in here? Didn't you read the sign?"

Lan ignored her completely unwarranted hostility, apparently the only way in which Alise was able to interact with other human beings, and nodded at the map. "Looks like you're planning a battle," he said. "I can help you out if you want. I like battles."

All three women glared at Lan as if he had said something completely idiotic, which he hadn't, at all. His huge, ridiculous frame filled the doorway, and he carried a cartoonishly massive sword on his back, which certainly gave the impression that he might know a thing or two about battles, but none of this seemed to connect for Alise, who carried herself with a demeanor of unnecessary indignance at all times.

"You'll keep your fool mouth shut is what you'll do!" Alise snapped, for no apparent reason. "This is women's business in here, and I don't need any idiot man sticking his big, dumb, masculine nose in it." Lan folded his arms, not responding.

One of the other two women in the room, Lan's wife, Nynaeve, looked a little taken aback. "Alise, he IS the last king of the Malkieri, an ancient line of warrior kings dating back to the dawn of civilization or something. I suppose we could hear him out at least."

Alise somehow managed to make her awful face look even more angry, which had seemed impossible only moments ago. She took a step toward Lan, jabbing a finger in his direction. "I'm not taking advice from a man if he's president of the world, even if every word of that advice is obviously smarter on its face than any five consecutive words that have ever come out of my mouth!"

"But Alise," Nynaeve started to say.

Alise rounded on her. "And you! I don't care if you WERE trained by an ancient society of female wizards and judged to be one of the most talented among them! I'll not have some young woman like you tell me anything at all, even if it's obvious that I'm a know-nothing country bumpkin who only gets respect by throwing her weight around and intentionally being the most annoying person in the room. Now the both of you had better submit to my irritating, aggressive, ignorant, unearned authority right now before I decide to vaguely punish you off page!"

Lan put his finger in the air, calling attention back to himself. He opened his mouth but didn't quite have time to get a word in. Alise took another step toward him and got very close to his face. She tried to look even more angry, but there really wasn't any way to, so she just sort of huffed and kind of bulged her eyes, and she put her finger right into Lan's chest. "Sit down, you", she said. "Men like you always think they know everything."

"I don't think…" Lan started.

"That's right, you don't," Alise said, cutting him off. "You think just because you're the last of a great line of kings, and that you've planned and fought in countless battles over a series of wars, and you've organized armies and studied military tactics, and you've watched all of your friends die in battle and your country fall to ruins, you think you're just going to walk in here and tell us women how to do things? Huh? Is that what you think?"

"I…" Lan started to say.

"We don't need a man's input. I know everything I need to already, because I grew up in the country and supervised dozens of basket weavers, turnip farmers, and butter churners. And I am automatically in charge here because I am older and louder than you could ever possibly dream of, and that's what counts for power in this room!" She stood down from his face and gestured at him, waving him away. "Your wife obviously needs to teach you your place a little more often."

Expressionlessly, and without waiting for her to catch her breath after her dumb tirade, Lan drew his sword and plunged it directly through Alise's heart. She fell to the floor, dead, still with that ridiculous look on her face. Lan said nothing and just stood there, looking down at her.

Nynaeve gasped, grabbing her braid with both hands and pulling on it. Her instinct told her to immediately become angry with Lan, even though Alise had clearly deserved that, but then again, he had acted on his own instinct, and even if he had done exactly what she wanted him to, it was necessary to call him out and embarrass him in front of everyone. Otherwise, he might get dangerous ideas in his head like thinking he was allowed to shave or go to the bathroom without asking for her explicit permission, and she couldn't have that.

"Lan," she said, as coldly as she could manage while still wilting in her lady parts over watching him violently end that terrible woman, "You will return to our chambers now. The women still have important matters to discuss. I will deal with your… inappropriate actions when I return." She sniffed and pulled on her braid so hard that it seemed she might tear the thing right out of her head.

Lan hesitated for a moment for dramatic tension, then immediately swung his sword at Nyneave's throat and took her head clean off at her shoulders. He watched with no expression on his face as her head fell to the floor. Her left hand went with it, still clutching that stupid braid.

Reanne, the last woman in the room, moved to stand next to Lan, looking down at the two corpses. "Truly, she died as she lived," she said. "I honestly don't understand why you married her in the first place." Lan said nothing and felt nothing.

"Lan, not that what you did was wrong in any way," Reanne went on, carefully, "because it really, seriously wasn't, but I don't think Rand is going to like this when he hears about it."

Lan wiped his sword on his dead wife's clothes and stared straight ahead, his face lacking any expression. "Don't trouble yourself, Reanne," he said. "I'll deal with the Dragon Reborn."


	2. Lan, Rand, and the Last Battle

**EPISODE 2: LAN DISCUSSES THE LAST BATTLE WITH THE DRAGON REBORN  
**

Lan walked along the top of the highest wall on the north end of the Stone of Tear, the wind flapping his many-colored cloak about him, making him sort of invisible from certain angles, but not really because he was huge and completely noticeable, and he walked around like he owned the place, which he may as well have. He showed no emotion, for he had none. His face seemed carved into a boulder, sitting on top of a larger boulder, his eyes like polished stones, his shoulders the rocky peaks of mountains. More stone than man, he walked stonily, at times indistinguishable from the stone wall of the fortress below.

"Lan, are you listening?" Rand Al'Thor walked beside him on the wall, his head turned slightly, an expression of irritation on his face, as usual. He had been talking about the wound in his side. Again. Lan met his eyes with no expression on his face whatsoever.

"So anyway," Rand went on, "It's like one of the wounds has regular darkness inside of it, and the other one has this OTHER, different kind of darkness in it, and they're fighting each other inside MY body! Can you believe that? I think I'll have Asmodean write another song about it."

"Fascinating," Lan said, without a hint of sarcasm in his expressionless voice. Silence filled several awkward moments.

"You know," Rand finally said, "These heron marks on my hands, the ones BURNED into my hands, are from blademaster swords. I killed a blademaster in single combat, so I'm a blademaster too. What do you think about that?"

Lan said nothing and kept walking. Rand looked at him sideways for a moment, then turned his attention forward again.

"I got these dragon tattoos on my forearms in Rhuidean," Rand said. "I was in Rhuidean. No one was allowed in there except Aiel, but I went. I learned the secret history of the Aiel. Then I united all the clans." He paused briefly. "Except the Shaido," he muttered, with a sullen, childish look on his face.

He brightened again, suddenly. "You know, Sevanna wants to marry me. She's attractive and has a gratingly terrible personality, so I'm thinking about giving her a call. She's obviously perfect for me. You know, Lan, I have three wives, but four is an even bigger number, so it's a win-win situation if you think about it."

He looked at Lan sideways again and said, quietly, "It's a shame about what happened to your wife, Lan".

Lan stopped walking for a moment. "Yes, a real shame," he said without looking at Rand.

"Not that I liked her, of course," Rand said. "Nobody could, really, I mean, we all just put up with how awful she was because she was such a huge bully, and she was supposedly the strongest in the One Power and all, but then Cadsuane showed up out of nowhere, and everyone likes her, so as a character, there wasn't much point to Nynaeve anymore, if you think about it. Anyway…"

Lan had stopped listening. He relaxed his mind and went to his quiet place, tuning out the insufferable drone of Rand's useless, stupid voice. He concentrated and was surrounded by the sounds of swords clashing and men screaming and dying, of villages burning in the night, of horses' hooves thundering to war, to victory, to death. He would have smiled if his face were capable of showing human emotion.

"Lan!" Rand said, turning to face him with his hands on his hips. "You're not listening again! I was saying how I was going to take Nynaeve to Tarmon Gai'don, but now I'll have to get someone else. I'd take Cadsuane, but she's not nearly annoying enough. Elayne?" He fingered his chin, apparently deep in what he considered thought. "Hmm. Maybe too annoying..." He trailed off momentarily.

"Lan! Did you know it's my destiny to fight in Tarmon Gai'don? It means Last Battle in the old tongue. Tarmon Gai'don. The last battle. My destiny. Lan! Lan!"

Lan finally turned to face Rand and looked directly into his eyes with a level, expressionless gaze. Rand stared back with a dopey smile on his face, his eyes signifying nothing at all. Lan thought he saw a tiny string of drool forming in the corner of Rand's mouth.

An age went by, the silence between them only broken by the sound of the wind whistling through Rand's ears. "Tarmon Gai'don," Rand said, again.

Without pausing at all, Lan lifted Rand from the ground by his throat with one hand. Rand's eyes bulged from his head, and he tried to claw at Lan's giant fist with his tiny, pathetic baby hands. With no expression on his face, Lan hurled Rand from the wall as hard as he could, which was very hard. As Rand plummeted toward his death, the wind carried his last words back to the battlement where Lan stood.

"I looooooove yoooou!"

Lan heard footsteps behind him and turned. Davram Bashere, one of Rand's generals, was walking toward him.

"Finally," Bashere said, looking down at Rand's shattered corpse hundreds of feet below. "Everybody hated that guy." He looked up at Lan, questioningly. "So, if you killed the Dragon Reborn, does that mean you're the Dragon Reborn now? Is that how this even works? I don't think anyone really ever understood."

"No," Lan said. "Thank the Light, it doesn't work that way."

Bashere shook his head, then grimaced. "What am I going to say to Rand's three irritating wives?"

Lan's expression never changed and never would. "You let me deal with those three, Bashere. I know just the thing for them." He was fingering the hilt of his sword. Bashere nodded. There was nothing else to say, really.


	3. Lan and the Dragon's Wives

**EPISODE 3: LAN PLAYS A GAME WITH THE DRAGON'S WIDOWS  
**

 **Part one: Bearer of Bad News**

Lan waited in a sitting room in the palace in Caemlyn. The sun shone brightly through a huge window, casting midday shadows over a neat floral arrangement on a small table off to the side. He stood next to it, hands clasped behind his back, watching the room, patient.

After a few moments, Min, one of Rand's three wives, walked in from the inner chamber. She immediately noticed Lan and looked him up and down at as if memorizing him. "Lan," she said, crossing her arms in front. "I thought you were in Tear, with Rand."

Lan let his hands fall to his sides. "So, about that…" he started, trying to find the right words. "Rand's had… an accident. In Tear. I'm afraid he isn't so much… coming back."

"Is that right?" Min said, her expression unchanged. "Didn't see that one coming. I thought he was supposed to fight in Harman Kardon or whatever." She kept her arms crossed and regarded Lan with a flat look.

"So did he," Lan said.

Min was silent for a small while. "Well," she said finally, "Had to happen sooner or later, I guess. Dude had more than a couple screws loose."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Lan said, even though he actually wasn't sorry at all.

Min nodded, then looked him up and down again. "I've just had a viewing," she said, her tone unchanged. "It says me and you need to get dirty. Right now." Lan shifted a bit on his feet, taken unexpectedly off guard. "Go on," Min gestured. "Get those clothes off."

Lan shrugged and did as he was told.

 **Part two: The Queen of Andor Rides Again**

Lan and Min walked out a door next to the stable yard. On the other side of a low wooden fence, Elayne Trakand, the newly acknowledged queen of Andor, was arguing with one of the stablemen. She was wildly gesturing with one hand, while the other rested on her huge, protruding belly. She must have been at least eight months pregnant.

"I don't care what the captain of the queen's guard, the first prince of the sword, OR the banner general of the army said," she was yelling at the top of her lungs. "I am getting on that horse right now, or I'll have your fool head off!"

Looking completely uncomfortable, the groom nodded and bowed over and over as he backed away. He finally turned around and practically ran to fetch her horse.

Elayne saw Lan and Min approaching and started toward them. She was so pregnant she could barely walk. "Lan! Min! I'm go glad to see you!" she cried loudly. Lan shuddered as if someone had scraped their nails across a chalkboard. "None of these woolhead commoners know how to act around a QUEEN!" She glared at all of the nearby workers, who were very carefully not looking in her direction. "I've been trying to tell everyone how important it is that I personally go after the Black Ajah, completely alone, on horseback. Birgitte keeps trying to send guards with me, as if I need any protection. After all, I have…" She looked down at her empty hands. "FOOTMAN! MY SWORD!" she roared.

One of Elayne's attendants ran forward and flung himself to his knees in front of her, his outstretched hands holding a heavy, two-handed broadsword. Elayne grabbed it absently with one hand and nearly fell over from the weight. She shifted, grunting, and hefted it to shoulder height, then let if fall again, almost cutting her attendant's ear off. He didn't move a muscle.

"Obviously, I'm the only one capable of both locating and subduing the Black Ajah," she said in a voice suitable for explaining something to a particularly slow child. The stableman had returned with her horse and was trying to help her get her foot into a stirrup. She struggled, trying to climb into the saddle, breathing heavily. "Even though every single time I've attempted to do so has resulted in multiple serious casualties when I've almost immediately needed rescue due to my own incompetence."

She stepped back down from the horse and leaned her back against it, completely out of breath. "It's so hard," she wheezed. "Everything is so hard with Rand's babies in here." She looked up at Lan and Min. "I'm pregnant with Rand's babies." She gasped for air several times. "I still remember it like it was yesterday…" She trailed off with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Oh god," Min said, annoyed. Lan could feel himself being enveloped in weaves of the One Power, coming from Elayne. So it was true. She had rediscovered the Flashback. The air around them got very fuzzy.

* * *

Rand paced back and forth across the sitting room, an expression similar to someone thinking really hard on his face.

"ELAYNE!" he suddenly yelled, turning toward her and pointing his finger directly at her. She jerked as if struck, spilling her wine all over the floor. She felt scared, yet also strangely turned on.

He crossed the room and gathered her in his arms. "Most irritating of my wives," he said in a quiet, yet crazy voice. "It is time I put my babies inside of you. Time for babies. The babies of the Dragon. Little tiny Dragon babies. In you."

Elayne melted at his eloquent words. "How romantic," she murmurred, laying her head on his chest.

"Yes, romantic…" Rand said, distracted. "But of course, when the Wheel turns, we all do as we must, even if it sometimes leaves us standing there naked in the street with only half a chicken."

Elayne looked up at him, somewhat confused. "Rand… I'm not sure that makes any sense," she said cautiously.

Rand flew into a rage, flipping over a table with a crash. "Does it have to, Elayne?" he screamed. He grabbed a half spilled pitcher from the floor and threw it into the wall so that they were both spattered with wine. "DOES IT HAVE TO?"

She shook her head, crying, and led him by the hand into the bed chamber.

* * *

"Like it was yesterday…" Elayne said again, that dreamy look still in her eyes.

"This sucks. I'm out of here," Min said. She turned to walk back toward the palace.

"I'll, uh… give you a call sometime," Lan said, not knowing what else to say.

Min turned her head back over her shoulder, pausing for a moment. "My viewing says you won't," she said flatly. Then she walked away and was gone.

"Lan!" Elayne yelled behind him in that terrible, high pitched voice. "This won't do! I am the QUEEN of ANDOR!" He turned around and met her eyes with his expressionless gaze.

Elayne raised the sword again with both hands. It fell directly toward her face, and she ducked out of the way, dropping it over her shoulder into the mud. She stared down at it for a moment, then put her hands on her hips and looked at Lan again. "Well?" she said in her most demanding tone. "What are you waiting for? Pick it up, you idiot wool head! And help me get on my horse! I ought to have you strung up from the rafters!"

Lan bent to pick up the sword. He wiped both sides of it on his pants and looked at his reflection in the blade. Elayne started tapping her foot. "Stop looking at it and hand it over, you filthy commoner!" she yelled.

Lan swung the sword at her as hard as he possibly could and felt bones crunching as it smashed into her ribcage. She fell to the ground with a sound like a splattering sack of tomatoes. As she lay there, Lan swung the sword over and over again, that wet sound and the ringing of the blade driving into the dirt echoing off the palace walls. He lost count of how many times. His muscles started to strain with the ache of it.

"I think she's dead, wetlander," a voice said behind him.

He stopped, panting, and let the sword hang at his side while he wiped sweat from his forehead. "I know," he said, somewhat breathlessly. "I just needed to be absolutely sure."

 **Part 3: New Beginnings**

Lan turned slightly and saw Aviendha, Rand's third wife, standing beside him, looking down at the tiny bits of Elayne staining the stable yard. She had a knife in each hand. As one of the grooms approached, she glowered and stepped toward him, growling and flashing the knives at him. He made a strangled little sound in his throat, dropped whatever he was holding, and ran away.

"I hate all these wetlanders," she muttered, looking around with suspicion. One of the stablemen tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around and put her knife directly through the man's throat. The rest of the attendants suddenly seemed in a hurry to be anywhere else.

"Me too," Lan agreed.

"We should dance the spears with every single one of them," she said. "It's the only way to teach them anything useful." Lan nodded, but said nothing.

Aviendha suddenly looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Lan Mandragoran. You are the only wetlander I've ever met who understands my unique Aiel sense of humor," she said. "You see, I'm never funny, and you never laugh!" She laughed uproariously at what apparently was her own joke and actually started rolling around in the dirt because she couldn't hold it all in. Lan had no idea what she was talking about.

Eventually, she stood back up and brushed the dirt and leaves off of her shirt. "I propose an alliance," she said, her voice sounding serious again. "I will lay my bridal wreath at your feet, and we will kill every last one of them until only you and I remain." Lan looked into her eyes with no expression and said nothing. "Marry me," Aviendha went on, "and we will rid the world of terrible characters. Together."

Lan hesitated a moment, considering. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "Ok sure," he said. "Why not?"


	4. Lan Meets an Old Friend

**EPISODE 4: LAN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND AND FEELS AN EMOTION  
**

Lan walked through a hallway in the Palace of Caemlyn. He had been summoned to one of the meeting rooms with a message saying, simply, that an old friend had come to visit. Lan couldn't recall having any friends. He supposed Rand had sort of been a friend, in some ways, but he doubted that even the Dragon Reborn could pull off a trick like coming back from the dead.

He found the room to which he had been summoned and opened the door. The interior of the meeting room was sunny and cheerful, minimally appointed with basic furniture. There were two other people in the room: a man wearing a gleeman's cloak, covered with patches of various colors, and a very short, beautiful woman wearing an elegant blue dress. Lan's eyes went wide as he saw her. "Moiraine…" he sputtered.

She smiled at him. He felt completely shaken for the first time in the series. His breath caught, and his vision blurred momentarily. He had felt this only once or twice in his life, and each time, it had threatened to overwhelm the boundaries of the grim, cynical persona he'd built as a wall around himself. The power of human emotion touched him; he could feel it on the edge of his mind, a raging torrent waiting to flow through him and tear apart his soul. He shuddered, struggling, and finally pushed it away, his placid demeanor largely returned. Nevertheless, still astonished, he spoke. "Where have you been? You disappeared months ago and everyone assumed you were dead!"

Moiraine waved the suggestion away with her hand. "Me and Lanfear went through a gateway to visit the Keebler elves or whatever," she said dismissively. "You know, those guys aren't as friendly as their marketing would lead you to believe."

Lan looked vaguely confused and said nothing.

"Anyway," Moiraine went on. "I guess I kind of lost track of the time. Thom had to come get me. I don't know what happened to Lanfear, but I can't say I'm sorry I left her there. She would NOT shut up about Rand. I wanted to slap her after a while." She trailed off, then started as if realizing she had forgotten something. "Oh! I am being so rude! You've met my boyfriend, Thom, haven't you?"

Lan looked at the man standing next to her, a leathery old bag of a man with sunken eyes and a ridiculous white moustache. "Thom Merillin," Lan said, extending his hand politely. "Yes, we've met." He looked at Thom's elderly face for a moment, considering, then looked back at Moiraine again. Was she wearing a new necklace?

The entryway door opened again behind him. Aviendha walked in and stood next to him, a knife in each hand. Her eyes narrowed. "Shall I dance the spears with these wetlanders, husband?" she said, looking in Thom and Moiraine's direction.

Lan sighed. "No, that won't be necessary, Aviendha," he said. "These are some old friends of mine." She nodded, still glaring at everyone, and walked away.

"Your wife?" Moiraine said, amused. Lan nodded. "She seems… nice." The three of them watched Aviendha, who was standing in the corner of the room, threatening a painting with her knives. Moiraine paused, thinking. "Actually, now that I think about it, she seems like a good match for you."

"I think so too," Lan said.

"I know!" Moiraine said, suddenly excited. "We should go on a double date! We can catch up on old times and get to know each other!" She clapped her hands together. "It'll be so much fun. Please say yes."

Lan shrugged his shoulders. "Sure," he said. "Why not?"

* * *

"OK, so I've been working on this new story," Thom was saying. He sat across the table from Lan in their little corner booth in the restaurant. Moiraine was seated next to him, listening intently. "It's going to drive the crowd nuts. You're going to love this. It all starts with three country lads who grew up in an isolated farming community that grows the world's best tobacco."

They were in a small, lively tavern in downtown Caemlyn. As they had walked up to the front door, Lan had noticed the bar's wooden sign depicting an apple tree in a sun splashed meadow. "The Apple's Bees", it said underneath. "This town is changing…" Thom had muttered under his breath when he had seen it.

"OK, so anyway," Thom continued. "This farming community never sees any outside travelers, and they're essentially cut off from the news of the world, right? But they're getting ready for a huge celebration, and all the kids go running when a delivery man arrives with a cart of fireworks!"

"Oh yes, everyone loves fireworks," Moiraine said softly, smiling encouragement at Thom.

"Just then, the town is visited by a well-camouflaged master swordsman who used to be a king and a mysterious, powerful wizard." Thom said, getting excited. "They try to convince the three country lads to leave the town, as they are in great danger, but being from the small, rural town they grew up in, they have no reason to believe it."

Aviendha looked thoughtful. "This sounds very familiar…" she said.

"That night, the boys are attacked by ferocious, shadowy monsters straight out of the legends. Forced to flee, they become separated from the swordsman and the wizard and dash across the country, narrowly escaping death in a series of hair-raising chase scenes! With only moments to spare, they all reach a previously agreed upon rendezvous point, where they are reunited with the rest of their fellowship!" Thom leaned back, satisfied. "Then they all go north together toward the dead lands surrounding a great force of evil to confront it and save the world." He grinned. "You ever heard anything like that before?"

"Isn't that Lord of the Rings?" Lan said.

Thom looked completely taken aback. "No! No, Lan, it's the story of Rand, Mat, and Perrin. And the Two Rivers. You were there, Lan!" He looked around the table for help. Moiraine wouldn't look him in the eyes. Aviendha looked bored.

"I think I heard someone say my name," a voice said from behind Lan, cutting Thom off. Lan turned his head around to look. In the next booth, Perrin Aybara sat across the table from his wife, Faile, who had accosted one of the waitresses. "Where are our drinks?" she demanded. "We've been sitting here for a whole book!"

"What the hell is Lord of the Rings?" Thom muttered, looking at the table and shaking his head.

Lan calmly regarded Perrin. "Aybara," he said. "It's good to see a decent character around Caemlyn."

"Yeah, good to see you too," Perrin said. "Faile and I are celebrating our anniversary. I – oh look, the drinks are here." Two waitresses approached their tables with trays of drinks. One of them went to set a glass of water in front of Aviendha.

"If there's any ice in that water, wetlander, I'll put my spear right through your ribcage," Aviendha said, glowering at the waitress, who immediately set the tray down and fled from the table. Aviendha picked up the steak knife from the table and continued to glare at the rest of the wait staff, who pointedly refused to look in her direction.

The waitress at Perrin's table set one glass of water in front of Faile, then one in front of Perrin. "Are you all ready to order?" she said, looking questioningly at Perrin.

Faile immediately grabbed Perrin's water from the table and threw it in the waitress's face. "Don't you look at my husband like that," she growled. The waitress looked shocked, wiping water from her eyes. "Don't think I didn't see that," Faile said. "Talking to my husband, you degenerate hussy!"

Perrin tried to put his hand on her arm. "Faile, I-", he started to say.

Faile grabbed her own glass of water from the table and threw it in Perrin's face. "You looked right at her! Is that all it takes to attract your wandering eye? Go ahead, get an eyeful, why don't you?" She shook her head as if disappointed in him. "On our anniversary, no less!"

The waitress had already disappeared by then. Perrin wiped his face with a napkin and turned back toward Lan's table. "Uh…" he said awkwardly. "Read any good books lately?"

Thom brightened again, smiling. "As a matter of fact, Perrin, I was just getting to the part of my story where our heroes meet a legendary race that lives in the woods and thinks humans are too hasty. I-"

Moiraine interrupted, putting her hand on Thom's arm. "I think that's enough stories for now, dear," she said softly. Thom looked disgruntled, but didn't say anything.

Perrin looked at Moiraine, noticing her for the first time. "Oh! Moiraine! I didn't see you there. Everyone thought you were dead. I – are those new earrings?"

"Oh, yes." Moiraine moved her head from side to side so that they sparkled in the yellow light of the tavern. "Thom got them for me. He's SO generous." She clung to his arm with both hands and smiled.

By this time, Faile had left her own table and was standing in front of theirs. Her eyes were absolutely full of rage. "Are you TALKING to my husband?" she said, very quietly.

Moiraine laughed lightly. "Relax, dear, I have man enough for me right here. Thom is the court bard of Caemlyn." She looked into Perrin's eyes. "What is it you do, again?"

"DON'T YOU LOOK AT HIM!" Faile screamed. She tore the tray of drinks from the table and hurled it across the room. "I won't stand for some conniving bitch trying to steal my man! On my anniversary, of all things!" She picked up Lan's steak knife from the table and pointed it at Moiraine. "Now you get out of that booth right now and come over here so I can cut your stupid face."

Thom looked at Moiraine, who simply nodded. He stood up to let her out of the booth. As she got up, Faile lowered the knife as if about to take a run at her. "I'll kill you, you homewrecker!" she cried, lunging forward.

Looking bored, Moiraine held both of her hands forward, palms out. A bar of blindingly white light shot forth from her outstretched hands and enveloped Faile in dizzying flames. The room shook, and the liquor bottles rattled on the shelf behind the bar. Lan covered his eyes, turning away.

As the smoke cleared from the air, one of the waitresses stopped by with a broom and dustpan to clean up what little was left of Faile. Although there wasn't much there, Perrin could still smell her jealousy.

He looked up at Moiraine, wiping sweat from his forehead. "That was intense," he said. "I kept wanting to do that myself, of course, but I could never decide whether to cut her head off with the axe or bash her brains in with the hammer! I'm very indecisive when it comes to weapons, you see. That's why it took me more than three books to hunt down the Shaido while Rand could find and destroy a Seanchan army in about ten pages."

He stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Then again, since you used balefire, I suppose that plot line never happened. I think that's how it works. Maybe I'll ask the wolves. I have yellow eyes, you see, and I…"

Perrin trailed off as he noticed that Lan and Aviendha were standing next to Moiraine, looking at him with their arms crossed. He began to sweat again. "Uh… is it hot in here?" he stammered nervously. "Well, anyway, since Faile is gone, I can just go back to being a blacksmith again, finally. You like swords, right, Lan? I could make you a really good one."

Lan considered for a long, awkward moment, then nodded. "I'd like that, Aybara," he said. "When can you have it ready?"

Perrin scratched his head, thinking. "You can pick it up in half a book."


End file.
